


We Carry On

by guyi (yujael)



Series: Island in the Mist [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth Productions RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, I can only write fantasy aus, I'm Sorry, it depends on how you interpret the ending, there may or may not be implied character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujael/pseuds/guyi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One could say that the island they live on is very prosperous even though it has no contact at all with the outside world. The inhabitants of the island look out from the shore, and if there is more to the world beyond the impenetrable wall of mist on the horizon, they can’t see it. Most of them don’t really care about it, either, because they have everything they need on the island.</p><p> Their lives are perfect, and all it costs is one life every fifty years.</p><p>They are both going up, but Michael is the only one coming back down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this when I was listening to the song What the Water Gave Me (Florence + the Machine). It took a bit of a different shape as I wrote it and I swear, it wasn't supposed to be this long. A few scenes that I hadn't planned sneaked in, and I was inspired to keep going with them while listening to a lullaby version of Carry On My Wayward Son (Kansas).
> 
> Anyway, it is, again, a fantasy AU, because I love writing fantasy. I hope you enjoy.

One could say that the island they live on is very prosperous even though it has no trade, or even any contact at all with the outside world. The inhabitants of the island look out from the shore, and if there is more to the world beyond the impenetrable wall of mist on the horizon, they can’t see it. Most of them don’t really care about it, either, because they have everything they need on the island.

The harvest is always fruitful and there’s always an abundance of wildlife. The people they know are friendly and there’s more than enough room on the island for everyone to live comfortably. Disease is rare, too, and most people are healthy and live to a ripe old age. Their lives are perfect; they have no reason to go looking for more.

And all it costs is one life every fifty years.

\--

The climb so far has been pretty easy; the trail is a cobbled path with breaks here and there, but it’s otherwise smooth, and the incline isn’t steep yet, either. They won’t get the real mountain climbing experience until after the first checkpoint.

Michael can see it from where he’s standing. It’s a small white building that looks something like a flare in the sunlight from where he’s standing. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he turns to Gavin. His head is tilted back like he’s trying to catch a breeze and Michael can tell he wants to take his blindfold off, but he can’t.

“How far is it?” Gavin asks, turning his head in what he must think is Michael’s direction.

“I can see it pretty well from here,” Michael replies. “I’d say we could get there before sundown.”

Gavin nods and he takes Michael’s arm again. “Guess we’d better get going, then.” He starts shuffling forward tentatively, but he can only take one step before he realizes that Michael isn’t moving with him. “Michael?”

“Are you sure about this?” Michael asks, staring up at the checkpoint. He can see how steep the path is going to get afterward, and once they get past the first checkpoint there’ll be no way for them to turn back. They could still turn back now, though. He could just lead Gavin off the path, it’s not like he could stop Michael since he’s blindfolded.

“You’ve asked me that before,” Gavin says, turning around slightly. It’s true; they have gone over this before, three times now. “I have to, don’t I?”

Michael stares back at him, and he notices that it’s so much harder to tell what Gavin’s thinking when his eyes are covered. He knows that Gavin was scared at first, but now that he’s had almost a month to think on it, he’s pretty adamant about it.

“Besides,” he continues. He lifts his hand to toy with a necklace tied around his neck, twirling wood beads and pearls around the string. “I want to help protect this place… I hate to think about what would happen if I didn’t.”

“I know,” Michael says, looking back at the checkpoint. He forces himself to take the one step to catch up to Gavin and they both continue on the path up the mountain. “Let’s go, then.”

They’re both going up, but Michael’s the only one coming back down.

\--

They have a specific festival once every fifty years, and they only have it on this day because the night that follows is when the one to climb the mountain is chosen. The oracle reads the stars (supposedly the arrangement of the gods’ thoughts) and she chooses their sacrifice  – and Michael will only call it a sacrifice, because that’s what they are when the oracle stands in front of them, points one of her gnarled fingers at them and says, “You.”

They’ve never been given the reason to believe in anything else, but they have all the reason to believe in the gods’ and their stars. It’s always been done this way, and they will always continue to do it.

It’s only one life, after all, and it’s considered an honor for the one chosen. They’re _chosen_ – they’re practically heroes, protecting the island from the gods’ wrath. They’re going to die, but if the rest of them get to live happily for the next fifty years…

\--

He’s never seen so many flowers at one time. Sure, the fields are full of them and he’s gone picking a few with Millie once or twice, but now that almost every available surface in the town is covered in stems and petals, it’s like they’ll never end. They’re supposed to symbolize the life of the town, but a certain someone is ripping them up and dumping their remains all over Michael.

“It’s a good thing none of us are allergic,” Gavin says. He’s grabbing flowers from wherever he can reach and dropping the petals on Michael’s head. Michael makes a note to remind him to beat the crap out of Gavin if he finds any in his pants. So far, it looks likely, so he tolerates the man’s antics for now and looks forward to punching him right in his big nose.

Gavin snatches a few roses, but before he can even begin tearing their petals off, somebody else wrenches them out of his hand.

“You monster,” Ray says incredulously, staring at Gavin like he’d just committed some heinous crime (which he did in Ray’s opinion, the obsessed rose fanatic that he was).

“I didn’t do anything!” Gavin says, laughing as Michael reaches over and whacks the back of his head.

“You were going to.” Michael rolls his eyes as Gavin finds different flowers to tear. When the petals land in his hair, he shakes his head and looses more petals onto the ground than he should ever have to. “Stop that. People were picking those for three days; I don’t think they’d appreciate you ripping them.”

To emphasize his point, he nods to an old woman walking a few yards away from them and giving Gavin the evil eye.

“But they’re on the ground, too, and people are just stomping all over them.”

“They’re already on the ground, they don’t fucking matter!”

“Are we actually going to go to the church or are we just going to stand around talking about flowers?” Ray asks while they examine a pile of flattened lilies. He’d started making some kind of crown with the roses and now that he’s finished, he’s apparently done with fooling around.

“Yes, _your majesty_ ,” Michael answers sarcastically just as Gavin reaches around him to knock the crown off Ray’s head. Ray dodges his arm easily and then shoves him to the ground, smirking. When he tries to stand, Michael pushes Gavin back down, collects the flower petals from his hair and clothes and smothers the man’s face with them.

“Ack – Michael, stop it!” Gavin rolls away from him, but Michael catches him again easily.

“How’s that feel, Gavin? Does it smell good?”

“They smell like your stupid face,” Gavin says, spitting a few pink corners out of his mouth and pushing Michael’s hands away. “Ouch – Michael, they’re in my eyes! I can’t see; you’ll have to guide me everywhere!”

“Fuck that,” Michael straightens up and then notices the empty space where Ray used to be standing. He looks over the heads in the drifting crowd and sees the rose crown bobbing around ahead. “Get up; we gotta catch up to Ray!”

Gavin’s still on his hands and knees, feeling the ground around him like he actually is blind; Michael hauls him to his feet and starts jogging after Ray. Gavin stumbles along behind him, laughing with bits of stems and petals still stuck in his hair and around his eyes. They follow the flow of people, all of them heading toward the central plaza at the heart of the town where the oracle will come out of whatever hole she’s been hiding in for the last three days.

They’re running toward the church, too, and as they go, Michael feels a _pang_ in his chest. It hurts and makes his heart skip a beat, but it’s gone before he can even consider the reason why he feels it.

It’s the first time he feels _fear_ for what the oracle will say, for whom she’s point to and say, “You.” And maybe even when he starts to hate the whole ceremony.

\--

The first checkpoint is a post holding an unlit torch outside of a small white stone building. Inside the building is a fountain, a little altar where Gavin is supposed to leave some incense, and just enough space left over for them to sleep.

“We have to burn it to let them know we’re coming up,” Gavin explains, blindly searching one of his pouches for the right incense.

Nobody is actually allowed to climb the mountain except for the sacrifice and the person they chose to guide them. By tradition or by some god’s order, the sacrifice isn’t supposed to see any piece of the journey, either, hence the blindfold that Gavin can’t remove. From the moment he got up on the first day of their journey he’s been blind.

Michael distracts himself by lighting candles. “Right, let them know… ‘Hey, gods, don’t worry, we’re not here to desecrate your temples or anything, don’t smite us or burn our town or anything, just hold on, we’re on our way…’”

Gavin manages an awkward laugh. He holds a few red sticks up to Michael. “Are these the right ones? They’re supposed to be yellow and they feel kind of leafy.”

“Are they supposed to feel like leaves?” Michael takes the sticks and the pouch from him. “And no, those are the red ones. These are the yellow ones.”

He gives Gavin the stems to hold and lights the rest of the candles. The room is filled with red-orange light flickering around, and he can already smell the incense. It isn’t even lit yet – Gavin has the sticks clutches firmly in one hand and he’s using the other to arrange small pots. Michael watches him knock the pots around and set incense in them for a few seconds before he starts lighting them.

“Wasn’t I supposed to do that?” Gavin asks him after he lights the first stick.

“I’m _not_ letting you handle fire, Gavin,” Michael says seriously. Gavin is clumsy enough on a good day without the blindfold. “Are you fucking insane?”

Gavin gives him a cheeky grin and Michael sighs.

“You can’t just be serious for once, can you?”

As the room fills with a floral smell (hell if Michael knows what it is), Gavin tries to keep up his smile, but it disappears slowly. Soon they’re left in an awkward silence surrounded by too-strong incense. Michael glances at Gavin, who’s on his knees a couple feet away with his head tilted toward the floor, and he sighs again.

“Come on,” he helps Gavin to his feet and guides him away from the altar. Their sleeping arrangements are just a few blankets on the floor and a couple pillows, and because the damn fountain takes up so much space they’re nearly arm to arm when they finally get settled, and their elbows knock against each other every time they move.

The tension in the air combined with the sound of running water and the scent of flowers keeps Michael awake. He just stares up at the small tiled designs on the ceiling as the candle lights gets dimmer, and he thinks that it isn’t the only reason he’s still awake.

And he says to himself, Gavin’s blindfolded. He’s got nothing but the inside of his own head to stare at.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, knowing that Gavin hasn’t fallen asleep yet, either.

“It’s okay,” Gavin replies after a few dead seconds. “I get it.”

“We can’t go back now, Gavin,” Michael says suddenly. The thought passes through his mind and it slips out before he can stop it. It feels like his heart is in his throat. “This is it.”

But you’re not the one blindfolded, he snaps at himself. You’re not the one who’s going to be left alone at the top of this mountain to die in order to become immortal. You’ve got nothing to be scared of.

It’s such an awful lie, so bad that even Gavin knows it when he didn’t even say it out loud.

“I know,” Gavin whispers. His hand finds Michael’s arm, then his hand, and his grip is iron-tight.

\--

The central plaza is the only place in the town with enough space to fit everyone, and even then, there are people sitting on the roofs and balconies to avoid the main crowd on the ground. Michael manages to find them a spot with an okay view of the church, and they stand in wait along with everyone else – and everyone else _is_ here; nobody is exempt from this.

When he looks up, he sees the stars peeking out one by one, and a deep, deep blue is overtaking the streaks of pink and orange. Gavin tries to point out different constellations as they appear; most of his guesses are way off the mark, but Michael never really paid attention when people taught him the stars, so it’s not like he can correct his friend. It seems like nobody can stop moving and chatting. Only those who have actually seen the festival once (or if they’re particularly aged, twice) before are calm in any way.

“It’s tonight,” they say, “tonight; who’s going to be the chosen one?” Michael has to keep telling Gavin to shut up, and he and Ray have to physically hold him back from wondering away to pick at more flowers or something equally stupid and nonsensical.

A few stragglers are still exiting the church, finished praying to the old sacrifices, ready to send off the new one. Not right now, of course; they’ll get whole two weeks before they have to leave the town.

When the moon and the stars are the only things left lighting the sky, the entire crowd hushes. They stop moving around and their whispers become a low buzz. Everyone watches the church doors, but the doorway remains empty. Ray shifts his weight from one foot to the other on Michael’s left, and Gavin does the same on his other side. Finally, after what feels like an hour (but was probably only a few minutes), one of the town’s elders emerges and stands in front of the stairs leading up to the doors. The oracle, a small, old woman hunched forward and leaning on a cane, follows him, and then everyone falls completely silent.

The elder takes a few seconds to look over the crowd before clearing his throat. “My fellow townspeople, another fifty years of good health and happiness has passed, and I know you all pray along with me that the gods bless us with more years of prosperity!” A murmur of agreement goes through the crowd and he continues. “Our oracle has watched the stars these past three days, read the gods’ messages, and she has seen the face of the chosen one to climb the mountain.”

She had started moving even before he finished, and now the oracle makes her way down the stairs to the plaza, her cane clicking heavily with each step. The crowd parts automatically for her as she approaches and they watch her walk with bated breath. She moves quietly, nodding to old friends she recognizes and to small children, but she doesn’t stop in front of any of them, doesn’t point at them with one finger and say, “You.”

“Who is it going to be?” People ask under their breath, “who is the chosen one?”

Michael can’t see her anymore around all of the people, but he can see where people are stepping back, pressing closer to each other so that she may go by. After a moment he realizes that she’s turned; she’s walking in their direction, but he doesn’t see her until the people in front of them part and then she’s only a few yards away from them. He and Ray glance at each other, and he wonders briefly if it’s him (and he thinks selfishly, _I don’t want to leave town_ ).

Then he feels the _pang_ in his chest again as she comes closer. _Don’t let it be one of them_. He and Ray step off the one side when the oracle gets too close, and Gavin steps in the other direction, separating to let her pass.

It turns out none of them needed to move. The oracle turns slightly again, her eyes locked on Gavin, and he doesn’t move again. She stops in front of him, and people are already whispering, “ _Gavin?_ ” She looks up at him and his eyes are wide, and then she raises her free hand, points at him, and says, “You.”

Everything is still for half a second. Michael and Ray glance at each other, exchanging looks of shock. Whispers spread through the plaza, “Gavin; it’s Gavin,” they say. Then the crowd explodes. People clap and cheer and they throw their flowers at him from above. Gavin has a grin plastered to his face, but he still looks like he has no idea what to do with himself. He meets Michael’s eyes and tries to take a step toward him, but then people start to push him in the direction of the church and he stumbles away.

When Gavin’s nearly disappeared in the throng, it occurs to Michael that he really doesn’t want Gavin to go in there. He’ll come back out, he tells himself, they’re not going to kill him in there – and nobody said anything about _killing_ in the first place.

“Gavin, wait!” Michael bolts forward after Gavin, tries to follow him, but it’s already pretty clear that he can’t catch up. The people around him are pressed so close together that it’s hard to slip by or push through. He tries to fight through the crowd, getting jostled around, but he’s not even sure if Gavin hears him over the din. At one point he thinks he sees Gavin reaching for him, but then he’s gone and when Michael finds him again, the oracle is leading him up the stairs by the arm.

Everybody stops moving around, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Michael to fight through them, even as he shouts and shoves. He watches Gavin turn to look over his shoulder and look over the crowd, but he doesn’t see Michael, and then the oracle shuts the doors behind them. That’s the last that Michael sees of Gavin until an entire new day has passed.

\--

A couple hours out from the first checkpoint, the state of the path gets worse and worse until it breaks off completely, leaving only a dirt trail riddled with loose stones. The incline is steeper as well, and filled with tree roots. They were told that there are three checkpoints before they get to the temple built at the top, and Michael can already tell that it’s going to take a lot longer than two days to get to the second checkpoint.

“How high are we?” Gavin asks as Michael guides him around the obstacles that he’s blind to.

“I don’t know,” Michael replies. It’s not like he’s had much to contemplate it while making sure Gavin doesn’t snap his ankle.

“Can you see the town from here?”

“We’re surrounded by trees, Gavin.” Michael says, but he stops anyway and turns to look back the way they came.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I mean, I can kind of smell them, but I didn’t know we were completely surrounded.”

“I can’t see anything through them,” Michael tells him, turning again. “We need to get higher up, out of the forest.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to see the whole town? Or – you will.”

“We’re on a fucking mountain,” Michael reminds him, “I probably will.”

“Will you be able to see the mist, too?”

Michael sighs, starting to get annoyed with Gavin’s questions. “Once again, we’re on a mountain. Why are you asking me this?”

“No, I mean – _over_ it.” Gavin makes a waving motion with his hand, like it’s riding over some air waves.

“You mean past it?” Michael frowns at the seeming random question, almost stopping again. “Gavin, there’s nothing there.”

“We don’t know that. Haven’t you ever wondered?”

“Of course I have, everybody does at some point, but have you noticed that nobody’s gone out and come back with anything new?”

“Maybe they didn’t go far enough.”

Michael stops again and stares at the man leaning on his arm for a few seconds. Then he asks slowly, “What are you thinking about?”

Gavin opens his mouth, closes it, and makes a sound in the back of his throat, like that would help him articulate his own thoughts. Then he shakes his head. “Just forget it; it’s stupid.”

“Gavin, half the shit you say is stupid,” Michael says. “Actually, no, almost all of it is, but you say it anyway. How is this any different?”

Gavin hesitates again. “What if there’s something out there? I mean, what if the people who go up the mountain don’t actually die, they just… get put somewhere _else_? Somewhere on the other side of the mist. And you could actually sail out there and find them…”

Michael can stare at Gavin all he wants, but with that blindfold on and half his face covered, it’s almost impossible to know his exact expression, and that would really help Michael to figure out what Gavin’s feeling. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about this whole time?”

“It’s not like there are a lot of other things I could be doing,” Gavin says, shaking his head again. He tugs Michael’s arm gently. “Forget about it.”

But Michael doesn’t forget about it. As they climb higher, he’s still thinking about it. Gavin put the thought in his head and now it’s stuck there. What if there _is_ something there? It’s something that only children think about, because everyone else already knows the answer. Their parents tuck them into bed at night and tell them: there’s nothing. You could sail out there, into the mist, and you could sail for days, weeks, months… But you’d never encounter another living thing. There is nothing but the mist around you.

_Maybe they didn’t go far enough._

Again, Michael wonders what would happen if they just walked off the path right now. Nobody could stop them, nobody would know, either. They could build a boat, says some silly voice in his head. They could be the ones to find what’s there. He thinks about just saying, “Fuck it,” and tearing off the blindfold around Gavin’s eyes.

But he doesn’t do it, because then he thinks about what Gavin said earlier. “ _I hate to think about what would happen if I didn’t._ ” Michael doesn’t want to think about it either – he has no idea what would happen if they left, and he’s not ready to sacrifice a whole town for his own selfishness. His next step doesn’t veer from the path. It takes them higher up the trail, and so does the next one and the one after that.

\--

He doesn’t get in to see Gavin until the next night, when he’s sure that most of the crowd has gone and Gavin won’t be surrounded by other people. It’s getting late by the time Michael’s had enough of waiting and he’s not even sure if Gavin would be up, but he goes anyway. According to the older townspeople, Gavin has been in the temple all day, and he’ll be there until he has to leave.

The church was actually built around the temple that had originally been the heart of the town. The temple still stands today, protected from the elements by the church around it, and people go there to pray to the gods and mourn the last sacrifices. Michael imagines Gavin sitting in a chair somewhere inside, wearing an outfit like the oracle, still covered in flower petals. When he gets inside though, he can’t help but laugh a little because the sight isn’t what he imagined.

The temple is a large round room of stone with an intricate tile design on the floor and statues lining the walls. Behind them, the walls are covered in paintings and tapestries, most of them depicting how the town was established and when life started on the island. The statues are the likeness of past sacrifices and Gavin is sitting, alone, in one of their shadows surrounded by bowls filled with beads and twine. He’s still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, minus the petals, a sandwich in one hand and a partially completed necklace in the other.

“Michael!” Gavin grins when he sees Michael enter. “I was wondering if you were going to come see me!”

“I was waiting for the crowd to pass,” Michael says, stopping in front of him. “Is this what you’ve been doing all day?”

Gavin nods. “Yep; I have to make one for all of the statues. Let them know there’s someone else coming up, I guess. The oracle explained it to me last night. I’m not supposed to leave the temple until they’re all finished.”

That must be why they don’t actually leave town for another couple weeks, Michael thinks. He looks around the room and notices that a few of the statues have necklaces at their feet. No wonder they’re here for almost a month; there are a lot of statues, after all.

“At the rate you’re going,” Michael says as he sits on the floor across from Gavin. “You’ll be here forever.”

“Are you going to help me?” Gavin asks hopefully. Michael rolls his eyes and takes the half finished necklace from him. The order of bead so far seems to be completely random, so Michael keeps slipping beads onto the string without thinking about the colors.

“So you can’t leave the temple until these are all finished? That’s it?”

“There’re a couple of specific prayers, too,” Gavin says, pausing to chew his sandwich, stirring the beads around their bowls. “But this is pretty much it.”

Michael feeds the beads onto the necklace silently, wondering how Gavin is actually feeling about this. He looks okay, but Michael knows how good he can be at hiding it. _Is_ he okay? Is he actually happy about being chosen?

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, pausing before he slides on the last bead to finish the necklace.

The sound of wooden beads clinking together stops as Gavin looks up at him. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

There are no stores describing a situation where someone refuses to be the sacrifice. They’re always told as being honored by it, happily climbing the mountain and joining the gods. Michael can understand that – who would refuse the gods? – but the only mention of the rest of the town, the people the sacrifice has to leave behind, is the joy of living in prosperity for another fifty years. Would anyone offer to take Gavin’s place?

“They’re going to put a statue of you in here,” Michael murmurs, craning his next back slightly to see the face of the statue they’re sitting next to.

“You’d get to come in every day and see my big nose,” Gavin says with a laugh. He leans back on his hands, admiring the stone figures around them.

Michael clenches the thick wooden bead in his palm. “They’re going to put it here because you won’t come back, Gavin.”

Gavin looks slightly confused at the tone of Michael’s voice, the sudden anger. “I know that; nobody else came back either, but it’s not like they would, right?”

The expression on Gavin’s face isn’t worried in the least and that makes Michael bitter and angry beyond belief. Maybe he’s hiding something, maybe he isn’t, but if he’s worried about what he’s going to leave behind (what the rest of them are going to lose), he’s not telling Michael. Michael tosses the last bead onto the necklace and ties it off quickly before tossing it down in front of Gavin, who seems even more confused.

“We build statues because they _don’t come back_ ,” Michael says again, louder, hoping to get the message through Gavin’s head. Gavin’s expression doesn’t change, and Michael stands up before he starts yelling. “They’re going to build a statue of you because you’re going to die!”

His shout echoes around the chamber, and the look on Gavin’s face is between shock and pain. He opens his mouth to speak, but by that time Michael’s already spun on his heel, storming away without another word.

It’s only one life, Michael says to himself as he leaves the temple behind him. It’s only one, and the rest of them get to live happily for the next fifty years…  But damn it, why does it have to be _him?_

\--

The second checkpoint is made of the same white stone as the first. It’s also nearly half the size, but luckily there’s no fountain inside, so they don’t have to worry about sleeping outside after four days of climbing. It’s above the forest, too, so when Michael stands outside, he can see the town, the shore, and even the mist surrounding the island.

“But if it’s possible to see over it, we’re still not high enough,” he tells Gavin. They both stand outside, facing the wind, trying to cool themselves off. Gavin makes a disappointed sound next to him.

“How does it look?”

“The mist? White and puffy, just like it was every other time we’ve seen it.”

“I meant everything else. The wind’s nice, but it doesn’t really give me much of an image.”

“Everything else looks like a bunch of tiny buildings in the middle of a quilt,” Michael says, describing the landscape as he sees it. Then he remembers that Gavin isn’t going to see it, not even when they get to the temple at the top. He takes a deep breath and really _looks_ at the sight laid out before him.

“Okay… we’re just above the forest, just enough to see over it. It’s like a stripe all around the mountain, mostly pine trees.” He pauses to look over the jagged tree line and then casts his gaze further. “Then it’s the flower fields, and I can just barely see the path that we took to get here. I can see all the flower patches in the field, too…” He stops again and squints, trying to see if there are any people down there.

“That’s a lot of flowers if you can see them from all the way up here,” Gavin comments. Michael snorts, wondering how the image looks in Gavin’s mind.

“Yeah, and I thought there were a lot in town… I can see the crop fields, too, and they do actually look like a giant quilt right up against the forest.”

“It’s like a giant bed.”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Michael says even as a smile tugs at his lips. “The town’s in the middle of all that. I can see the church, I think, surrounded by a lot of blue.”

“Because the roofs are blue.”

“Yeah…” Michael looks past the town now. The beach is partially obscured by their home, but he can still just see it. “It’s like this thin yellow line that separates the field from the water. I can’t see any boats or anything on the water, so it’s blue as far as it can go…”

“And then the mist.”

“That’s right. It’s like a giant cloud on top the water…” Michael trails off, unable to find any other way to describe the foggy expanse. His eyes sweep over the island again. It’s something he’s never been able to imagine, and only one other living person has seen it. It’s breathtaking, and he wishes that Gavin could see it.

“It’s starting to get nippy,” Gavin says, pulling Michael’s arm. Michael blinks and shakes himself out of his reverie. “We should go inside.”

There’s another altar inside and Gavin needs to burn the red incense sticks this time. They repeat the same motions as last time; Michael picks out the right sticks and lights the candles while Gavin arranges the bowls, murmuring the phases the oracle taught him. When they finish, they lie on the floor together, catching cool breezes from the open door. They arrived at the checkpoint a little after midday; they’re in no hurry to move on.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Michael breathes deeply, taking in the fresh mountain air. “I’m beat.”

“My feet hurt,” Gavin adds, wriggling his toes.

“Maybe if you would stop tripping over shit,” Michael jokes. Gavin says something about him being a terrible guide, and then they’re both quiet. There’s nothing but their own breathing to listen to; each step has taken them farther from the town, from the sounds they’ve been accustomed to.

Michael doesn’t know how long they lie there, but by the time Gavin breaks the silence, his eyelids are heavy and the rest of his body feels separated from his head.

“Hey, Michael?”

It takes a few minutes to draw himself away from sleep. “Yeah?”

“Thanks… for coming with me.”

“You’re waking me up for that?”

“I meant it,” Gavin’s hand find’s Michael’s arm, and then he elbows him. “I thought you were really mad at me and wouldn’t want to come with me.”

“Gavin, I _was_ angry with you, but I probably would have come regardless of whether I was mad or not.” Michael sighs and pulls his eyes open again. For a second he forgets that they’re at the second checkpoint; the design on the ceiling is exactly the same. If it wasn’t for the ache in his entire body, it’d be like they never moved. He wonders if the third checkpoint will be the same.

The thought strikes something in Michael’s mind. He sits up and looks over his shoulder at the altar.

“What are you doing?” Gavin asks, pushing himself off the floor as well.

“Did the oracle ever say why you had to be blindfolded?” Michael asks him.

“She said it was tradition,” Gavin shrugs. “It’s just how it’s been done. Why?”

Michael is about to explain it, but then he thinks, how would Gavin know? He can’t see it, and he doesn’t even know what the first checkpoint looks like. Something in the back of his minds nags him, but it slips away the harder he thinks about it.

“It just… seems kind of pointless,” he says instead. The idea slips away completely, but it leaves him with another thought. Would anyone care if they took the blindfold off? It’s not like anyone would know. Well, no one in town would. Michael chases the thought away – he’s supposed to make sure Gavin _doesn’t_ take the blindfold off.

Gavin raises his hand and touches the cloth. “Do you think anyone would know?”

“I would.”

“But you wouldn’t have to tell anybody,” Gavin points out. “I bet others have done it.”

Michael stares at him for a moment. He has no idea what the other before them would have done on their journey. Actually, he tells himself bitterly, you do – they stuck with the tradition. They went up together, burned incense at the altars, said their prayers and continued on. They came to the temple at the top and then they left the sacrifice behind.

He pushes Gavin’s hand away from his face. “Doesn’t mean you should.”

It comes out flat and he sees Gavin’s brow furrow. It’s not that he doesn’t want Gavin to see anything that he can see, to be able to see how beautiful their home looks. In his mind, Michael admits that he’s scared of what might happen if they break from tradition. Gavin’s always had the tendency to be flighty, and even though he’s held up well so far, Michael wonders if taking the blindfold off would be what breaks him.

He thinks about what would happen if Gavin gives up now, if they both just say, “Fuck it,” and leave the road behind. Gavin would be the first in history to refuse to be the sacrifice, and Michael would be the first to let him. If they returned to the town, they’d probably be disgraced and hated. And that’s not all – sure, maybe there is something else behind the mist, but what about the gods that are supposedly the source of their prosperity? What happens if they don’t get their sacrifice?

He thinks about his family, and his friends and their families. He imagines Millie crying because her mother doesn’t have any bread to give her, and damn it, he doesn’t want any of them to suffer.

It’s so much easier to just keep climbing, keep going higher and higher instead of having to deal with all those unknown variables, and Michael hates himself so much for it.

\--

It’s quieter in the town after the festival, and Michael knows why – with Gavin stuck in the temple, there are fewer ruckuses being made. The town is quieter and Michael can tell that some people are going to miss the noise. He doesn’t tell Gavin though, because he doesn’t go back to the temple the day after he stormed out, nor does he go the day after, or the day after that.

He sees the church, sees Gavin’s clueless face, and he turns the other way.

His friends know that he’s brooding, but most people know better by now than to bother him when he’s angry. He spends most of his time away from time, working in the fields or on the water. It gives him something to do, an outlet to work out his anger.

It’s Geoff that finally approaches him after twelve days. He’s just coming in from a slow day of fishing when Geoff catches up to him; they leave the docks together, making small talk until the conversation inevitably turns to what tomorrow will bring.

“You know he’s leaving tomorrow,” Geoff tells him, suddenly less exuberant than he was a few minutes ago.

“I know that,” Michael says. It’s been nearly two weeks and Gavin should be finished the simple necklaces by now. “I talked to him.”

“Yeah,” Geoff says with one eyebrow raised. “Once.” He gives Michael a disapproving look usually reserved for when Millie’s getting into something she really shouldn’t be. It’s a pretty strong indicator of where the conversation is heading. “I know you’ve been pretty busy for the last while, but don’t you at least want to see him before he goes?”

“It’s not like I won’t see him tomorrow,” Michael says with a note of bitterness.

“But you won’t get to _talk_ to him then,” Geoff retorts, emphasizing the _talk_. “He’s not coming down again-”

“I know that!” Michael snaps. It’s what he was trying to get through to Gavin before!

Geoff opens his mouth to say something more, but then he shuts it again. He shakes his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “I’m getting too old for this bullshit,” he mutters, apparently giving up on what he was saying before. Instead, he fixes Michael with a long “enough fucking around” stare.

“Look, I don’t know what you guys talked about last time and I’m too tired to try psychoanalyzing you. But what I _do_ know is that Gavin still wants to talk to you, and I’m willing to bet hard cash that you’ll regret not going to talk to him later. I get there’s some kind of shit you’re trying to avoid right now, but I swear – Millie is seven years old and even _she’s_ acting more mature about this than you are.”

He finishes with an air of indisputable finality, leaving no room for Michael to argue before he walks away, breaking off the path and heading toward a pair of farmers also turning in for the day. Michael watches him go, and he only thinks about going after him for a second – the days that Geoff puts on his parent face to deal will another grown man’s problems are pretty rare.

He goes back to town alone, mulling over Geoff’s words. It _has_ been almost two weeks, the voice in his mind says; Gavin’s probably wanted to talk to you for a while. He wonders if Gavin’s actually figured anything out for himself or if he still wants Michael to explain his meaning – he hopes it’s the former, because the thought of having to explain anything at this point makes his blood boil.

It’s when he glances at one of the torches lighting the streets that he decides to go to the temple. If Gavin were with him, he’d try to fuck around with the torches, he’d try to cause a ruckus, and Michael knows that he’s going to miss it. Geoff’s right – if he doesn’t go now, he won’t get another chance.

The moon and stars have completely blanketed the sky when he gets to the temple. A fine and private time, he thinks. Maybe that’s why he always seems to go there at night. The church is almost eerie – only a couple lamps light the corridors and the courtyard before the temple has a bit of a foreboding feel about it in the darkness.

Gavin is already asleep inside the temple, or at least Michael thinks he is. He’s lying in a pile of blankets on the floor and his eyes are closed for about two seconds before he looks to see who entered. When he recognizes Michael he becomes alert. Michael shuts the heavy door behind him, leaving them in the light of two small lamps. Gavin sits up quietly after a few seconds and makes room for Michael to sit on the pallet next to him.

Michael sits and they both stare at their hands for a moment. When it’s obvious that Gavin won’t say anything first, Michael clears his throat. “Well, Geoff tracked me down and told me off for not coming around here. Said you wanted to talk to me?”

Gavin nods. “Course I did, you doof. You just left and didn’t even come back to help with the necklaces.”

This is not the time to punch, Michael tells himself. Resist the urge. “Stop fucking around,” he says. “What do you want to say?”

“Okay – sorry. I was uh, thinking about what you said earlier, before you left…” Gavin rests his elbows on his knees and twiddles his thumbs for a couple seconds. “I know that when I go up, I’m not going to come back down, and that’s why they’re making a statue to remember me by…” he pauses, eyes flitting back and forth between his hands and Michael. “You know, the whole ‘join the gods’ thing-”

“Gavin, that’s not what I meant,” Michael snaps, curling his hands into fists. “This isn’t about the fucking gods or you going on some damn vacation. I mean, damn it, haven’t you ever thought about what the rest of us are going to feel when you’re gone?”

“No, no, let me finish,” Gavin says, holding a hand up to silence Michael. “What I meant was – when have you ever heard of a god wandering about on the island? They’re all off partying in the clouds or whatever. I get what you meant Michael. I get that going up there doesn’t mean that I’ll be immortal and never actually die. That’s stupid; everybody dies at some point, but… You know, this isn’t exactly how I pictured the rest of my life.”

For a moment he just stares at the walls around them, the same walls he’s had to look at for the last two weeks. His last two weeks in town. Then he reaches under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a necklace tied around his neck, showing it to Michael. It looks like a child made it; there are small wooden beads carved into different shapes along with pearls strung on at random intervals.

“Millie made this for me,” Gavin explained, admiring the arrangement of beads. “So that I wouldn’t forget her when I was up in the clouds…”

 _“Millie is seven years old and even_ she’s _acting more mature about this than you are…”_

Michael watches the flames flicker on the pearls as a certain melancholy creeps into his bones, stamping out the anger. He pictures the young girl asking her mother to carve those wooden beads for her, and dragging her father out to collect the right pearls, and when they ask what for, she says to them, “So I can give them to Gavin, and he won’t forget us.”

“And to be honest with you,” Gavin says, patting the necklace against his chest. “I was scared when the oracle walked up to us and chose me, and I’m still… I’m going up there, Michael, but I won’t get to come back down. I won’t even get to see the town again!”

The expression on his face is similar to when he’s feigning fright whenever someone threatens to beat the shit out of him. The difference now is that Michael’s hardly even angry with him now, and he’s not acting in the first place.

“You’re really sure about this?” Michael asks, barely above a whisper.

“What else can I do? It’s not like I can just hop up and say, ‘sorry, not in the mood this century,’ and I’m leaving _tomorrow_.”

Gavin runs a hand through his hair, further mussing it up, and he seems to curl up tighter around himself. Michael lets out a short sigh and decides to throw his last fuck for the night to the wind and wraps an arm around Gavin’s shoulders.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” He says, gripping Gavin’s shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting manner. It’s enough, apparently, because Gavin scoots closer and leans on him the same way he did when he and Geoff huddled on Geoff’s sofa. “No matter how many times I’ve called you dumb shit, or tried to punch you in the nose, or made fun of your nose… you’re still my best friend. And I’m sorry, because I don’t know what else… I don’t…”

“I want you to come with me,” Gavin says suddenly as Michael struggles to find the right words.

“What?”

“I’m going to need someone to help me climb the mountain,” Gavin explained quietly. “I have to choose someone to come with me.”

For a second, Michael wonders why Gavin would choose him to climb the mountain, to spend some of his last time on the island with. Then he sees the necklace around his neck and remembers that he’s been avoiding the temple for two weeks now. Gavin has probably already said his farewells to everyone else.

“Yeah,” Michael says, nodding stiffly. He pulls himself together and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. He’s not even sure if the full gravity of the situation has hit him yet, and he knows that he’ll probably leave the temple when it does. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

\--

It turns out that Michael was right about the last checkpoint – aside from the fountain in the first one, they all look exactly the same. He’s still not sure what the connection is, but it nags him every time he glances up at the ceiling or traces the etchings on the sides of the altar.

Maybe they were just too lazy to make any changes, he thinks. It’s a plausible explanation, but it doesn’t solve anything.

“These are the green ones, right?” Gavin asks, holding up the incense sticks. For once, he has it right.

“There’s only one other kind,” Michael reminds him. “Of course they are.”

“Just making sure. They smell terrible.”

Gavin has been asking random questions and trying to make a conversation for a while, but Michael’s been thinking too much about other things to really reply with anything. Gavin settles down quickly though; he’s gotten better at following Michael’s directions, so it only took them two days to reach this checkpoint, but they’re both getting pretty tired.

“Get as much sleep as you can,” Michael says as they’re turning in. “The trail looks way more fucking dangerous after this.”

“Are we talking extreme leap of kingdoms dangerous?”

“No, I’m talking ‘put one fucking toe out of line and you’re dead’ dangerous.”

“I’ll be really careful, then.” Gavin says, sounding like he’s already drifting off.

They wake up early, but Michael notices that they both get ready to move on slower than before, almost reluctantly. He doesn’t say anything about it, mostly because he has to put more focus than ever on directing Gavin and not falling off cliffs. There are no leaps of kingdoms and no tree roots to trip them up, but there are still a whole lot of stones and sometimes the trail becomes so narrow that they have to shuffle by sideways to avoid falling. There have also been spots where they end up having to climb to the ledge above to continue. It makes for a slow climb when they add the fact that Gavin can hardly go three steps on his own without losing his balance.

They manage it, though, just like all the people before them did. It’s almost like a miracle, actually; Michael can’t help but wonder if there’s some divine intervention going on, preventing the wind from blowing too strong or something (because, seriously, Michael has felt harder gusts in the corn fields, and they’re on a damn mountain, he knows the wind should be stronger). Maybe the gods don’t want their sacrifice to die before he actually gets to the temple, he thinks spitefully.

Just as the thought passes through his mind, like the gods want to spite him back, he feels the wind picking up.

“Just keep holding on to the wall here,” Michael says, making sure Gavin’s hand doesn’t leave the cliff side he’s leaning on. “There’s another ledge coming up. It’s not that high though, it’s only a few feet taller than me… I’ll go up and then pull you up, got it?”

“Just don’t drop me,” Gavin says. “I don’t want to go rolling all the way back down.”

“Make sure not to scrape your nose, either,” Michael retorts, approaching the ledge. The only reason he knows they’re still on the right trail is because the footholds carved into the rock are much too deep to have been created naturally. They’re worn with age, but they’re smooth and obviously carved specifically to help a person, blind or not, climb up. He takes hold and hoists himself up, careful not to let the weight of their supplies pull him backwards. Once he’s up, he crouches next to the edge and watches Gavin find the niches with his hands, and then begin climbing.

“Hold on tighter than that,” he says when Gavin falters the first time. He lurches forward when Gavin slips up, almost losing his grip, but Gavin manages to save himself.

“I’ve got it,” Gavin tells him as he pulls himself closer to Michael’s waiting hand. Michael reaches farther, ready to pull Gavin up the rest of the way.

“A bit more and I can grab you-” he breaks off as the wind blows again, harder, as Gavin reaches blindly for him. Gavin immediately tries to find a new purchase on the wall and shelter himself against the wind, but he finds the wrong recess and he slips again. Michael all but throws himself back over the ledge in an effort to catch Gavin before he falls down completely. “Gavin! Fuck – I got you, just-“

“Slipping, I’m slipping,” Gavin says in a panicked voice, his feet scrambling to find the footholds again before Michael finally pulls him up.

“You all right?” Michael asks once they’ve scrambled a safe distance away. He can still feel his heart hammering in his chest. The fall might not have been bad, but Gavin could have easily landed and then rolled right off the edge.

Gavin nods, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “I was so scared that I was going to get blown off,” he hasps. One of his hands is clutching something around his neck tightly – Millie’s necklace. “I’d have fallen backward and then I’d be done for.”

They’re so close, and if Gavin falls and cracks his head open, then they’re all done for. But he won’t crack his head open if he doesn’t fall…

“Take you bag off for a minute,” Michael orders him, a plan forming in his mind. The trail is hardly wide enough for them to walk side by side anymore, but if they can get moving faster, then they could definitely reach their destination by tomorrow morning. “I want to put some things in it.”

“What?” Gavin looks uncertain again, but he does as he’s told.

“I’m gonna put some food and shit in it,” Michael explains as he takes items from his own pack. “And then we’ll leave my stuff here for now. I don’t need all of it right now and it’ll just make shit easier.”

“How is that going to make things easier?”

“Because I’m going to carry you.”

“What?”

Michael almost rolls his eyes, but the gesture would be pointless. Instead he just launches into another explanation. “It’ll be a lot easier to not have to tell you where to put your foot down, and there’ll be less of a chance of you falling over. This part of the trail is dangerous and I don’t want to risk staying on it any longer than completely necessary.”

Gavin thinks about it for a few seconds, and if he has any complaints, he doesn’t voice them before Michael gives his pack back. Michael then unfolds one of his blankets, spreads it over his own bag and then weighs it down with stones so that it isn’t lost before he comes back to get it.

Getting Gavin onto his back is a little awkward as Gavin tries to find a good way to hang on and not choke Michael without seeing his neck or shoulders. It starts out like a bear hug from behind until Michael finally stands again and adjusts his hold on Gavin’s legs. Then he starts walking, and he can already move faster than before.

As the sun dips lower and lower, Michael thinks about the distance they have left to cover – it’s not much. If he looks up, he can see white pillars above them, and he automatically knows that they mark the temple’s location. Even from where they are, he can see that they’re made of the same stone as the checkpoints, even when they’re turning orange and pink as the sun sets lower. He can’t see the temple though. He forges onward, regardless; it’ll come into view eventually. He focuses instead on keeping his grip steady, making sure Gavin doesn’t slide off his back – the pack he’s carrying is still pretty light, but Gavin is as heavy as he looks.

He’s also quieter than he’s ever been so far (maybe even in his entire life), but Michael doesn’t need to ask him what’s wrong. A part of him even feels stupid for suggesting a quicker way of getting up the mountain. You are carrying him to his death, a voice says in his mind. But maybe not, he counters. Before he can stop himself, he’s returned to the same futile argument he’s been having with himself for days.

There is no way to answer all of the what-ifs, not without some kind of proof, and they won’t be able to get that unless they do it themselves. By that time though…

He hears a strange sound right next to his ear and it takes his brain a moment to register what that sound actually was – Gavin sniffing. And not the “what’s that smell?” kind of sniff.

“Hey, are you _crying_?”

Gavin sniffs again; it’s almost like he’s embarrassed to have been caught. “We’re almost there, Michael.”

 _We’re almost there_. Michael looks up, sees the pillars again. Still far away, but compared to the rest of their journey, so close. _We’re almost there._

Gavin’s breathing is irregular, too, like he’s trying to compose himself, but failing miserably at it.

“You don’t have to cry,” Michael says. He’s trying to comfort his friend, and there is very little else he can say.

“Michael, I’m going to _die_!”

“You don’t know that,” Michael shakes his head. He thinks about the entire pointless argument he had with himself, what Gavin asked him before he shook it off as stupid. “Remember what you said before?”

“It’s impossible,” Gavin answers sourly.

“Nope, no it isn’t. I think you were on to something, Gavin. I think – I think maybe all the people who were up here… maybe they _did_ get put somewhere else, somewhere _out there_.” Michael wants to believe that it’s true so badly. He doesn’t fight himself on it anymore; he throws it all to the wind. He wants to believe that there’s something there for his friend to look forward to, lets it show in the intensity of his voice.

“You’re not going to die, Gavin. You’re going to go up there, and somehow you’re going to get off this island. I don’t fucking know how, but even though you’ve fucked up so many times, you’re still one of the luckiest people I’ve ever known. If there is anyone who can find some way off, it’s you.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything in reply; Michael hears his harsh breathing, but there are no words from him. But he feels Gavin’s fingers dig into his shoulders – it feels like Gavin is holding onto him like his life depends on it.

“Isn’t it better to think that you’re right and not wrong?” Michael asks him. Gavin takes another deep breath, shuddering as he exhales. “I don’t know what the hell tomorrow’s going to bring you, Gavin, but it’s not going to be some shitty, obscure death.”

And as he says it, the trail under Michael’s feet suddenly becomes much smoother than before. He looks down, frowns in the gathering darkness, and then follows the trail ahead of him with his eyes. It’s not a trail anymore, he realizes – he’s just stepped onto a long, smooth staircase. It’s still as narrow as the trail, and it twists and turns out of sight, but even though Michael can’t see exactly what the stairs lead to right now, he knows it can be nothing less than the temple that he is supposed to guide Gavin to.

“Let’s stop here for tonight.”

\--

The oracle wakes him up before the sun is even up. She stares down at him with a tiny lamp while he rubs the sleep from his eyes, and then she asks quietly, “Are you going with him?”

Only for a split second does Michael wonder what she meant, and then his mind floods itself with memories of the night before.

_“I’m going to need someone to help me climb the mountain. I have to choose someone to come with me.”_

Gavin needed someone to accompany him, and he chose Michael for the task.

Michael nods and she gestures for him to stand and directs him over to the door.

“Then I’ll tell you this now, before you go and get yourself prepared,” she murmurs, making another gesture at his shoes, which have the distinct odor of fish on them. “It will probably be a long and hard climb, and you will have to guide him every step of the way. There are three checkpoints along the path, and he already knows what to do at each. The trail leads to a temple near the top of the mountain, and you will need to leave him there. Do not enter with him – it’s not your journey, after all. Do you understand? He goes into the temple alone.”

Michael nods again, and she continues on, telling him what he needs to bring and what they have already been supplied with before she sends him out of the temple.

The streets are empty as he makes his way back home from the church. According to the oracle, he doesn’t have to worry about food or water, but he still needs to be prepared for at least two weeks of traveling. The mountain also has resources that they can use, so that leaves clothes, and a pair of boots that stink less of seaweed than the ones he’s wearing.

He can see the mountain over the rooftops, there’s no snow even on its tip; it’s too warm for that around this time of year. Still, it looks lonely. The townspeople might get close to it, but they aren’t allowed to climb it.

The sun is up when he leaves his house again, and there are other people starting to fill the streets as well. He contemplates stopping by Geoff’s place on the way back to the temple, but he ends up deciding against it. He doesn’t have much to say, and he can say it after he gets back. 

The town is full of whispers again, too. “He’s leaving today... Pray for a safe journey…”

 _Keep him safe, Michael, keep him safe…_ He shakes away the bitter thoughts before they can fully surface, returning to the temple again with resolution. Gavin is awake now as well; he’s still sitting on the floor, just pulling on his boots, and there are a couple bags, a few small pouches, and a bundle of blankets arranged next to him.

“This is all the stuff we need, apparently,” Gavin explains. “This bag is mine, and that one has food and water in it. This pouch has incense in it, that one’s got a bunch of little pots, this one’s got candles and that one’s got flint to light them with.”

“Did the oracle tell you what to do with all that?” Michael asks as Gavin points out each pouch. Gavin nods.

“She pretty much burned it into my brain with a hot poker,” he says.

“Right… So, this is the big day, then.”

“Yeah,” Gavin starts toying with the wood and pearls around his neck again, and then he reaches behind him and holds up two slips of cloth. “There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that for?”

“Apparently it’s tradition,” Gavin says. “The one chosen to climb the mountain has to be blindfolded, so they don’t see the journey at all.”

Michael lifts his eyebrows and blinks a couple times. What kind of shitty tradition is that? “I guess that’s why you need someone to go with you?”

“I think so,” Gavin agrees. He holds the cloth for Michael to take. “You have to put that around my eyes.”

“I know how a damn blindfold works,” Michael takes the cloth and Gavin leans back slightly. He stares up at Michael for a few seconds and then closes his eyes slowly. Michael wonders whose faces are passing through his mind right now; he won’t get to see them again, after all. “Ready?”

“Okay,” Gavin says. “Ready.”

“Sure?”

He hesitates for a couple seconds. “Yeah.”

Michael goes to one knee next to him. The first piece of fabric is small and black; he places it over Gavin’s eyes first, arranging it so that his large nose won’t impede the process too much. The second piece is green and much longer so that it can be tied around his head. He presses it down, making sure that Gavin won’t be able to see out from underneath it before tying the knots, tightening them so that they won’t loosen and fall apart.

“Does that feel okay?”

Gavin reaches up and brushes his fingers against the cloth, poking it and shaking his head around. Then he nods. “Yep. I don’t think it’s coming off.”

“Get up, then.” Michael helps him stand and before he can even let go, Gavin begins to wobble and his fingers dig into Michael’s arm in an effort to steady himself. “Ouch, watch it!”

“I’m going to fall over!”

“No, you’re not, you’re fucking standing straight. Stop that for a second – here,” Michael pries Gavin’s fingers off and then forces Gavin to stand straight. As soon as he lets go again, Gavin spreads his arm out and stand like he’s trying to keep his balance on a wire as Michael grabs the supplies from the floor. The food he puts in his own bag before helping Gavin get his own on his back, and then he links their arms together so that Gavin can walk steadily and lean on him instead of cutting off the blood flow to his hand.

The tradition is already as ridiculous as it sounds and Michael can tell that their climb is going to be long and slow. He doesn’t have time to voice this, though, because the oracle is suddenly standing only a few feet away from them.

“Are you ready?” She asks softly. “Your friends are waiting to send you off.”

“Your friends are waiting to say good bye,” is what she was really saying, corrects the spiteful voice in Michael’s head. He nods, though; it’s way too late to make any difference.

“Yeah,” Gavin moves his head as if he’s trying to locate the oracle from the sound of her voice. She approaches him and takes his free hand in hers, holds it tightly in her wrinkled fingers.

“We will miss you,” she says quietly. It’s barely above a whisper, but it almost echoes in Michael’s head, and he feels the _pang_ in his chest again.

_We’ll miss the ruckus you caused, the shit you’ve fucked up and the weird-assed ideas you’ve had. The streets were quieter when you were in the temple, but now you’re leaving for good…_

Their first steps are tentative when they get outside. Sometimes Michael wants to just walk away, pull Gavin off the street with them, and tell them to send someone else. But the crowd formed in the plaza, all their friends there to send them off, has left them only one path – east, to the road that will take them to the mountain.

They’re cheering and clapping again, waving and yelling, “Good bye! Good luck! We’ll miss you!” They toss flowers at them again, and even though Gavin can’t see them or catch the flowers, he waves back blindly.

Let them all know it’s okay, Michael says to himself. It’s okay; he’s never going to die, because he’s going to be immortal.

Somebody chucks roses at them; Michael turns and sees Ray standing at the edge of the crowd. He’s not saying anything, but he’s smiling, and Michael can almost see how effort he’s putting into keeping it there. He remembers that he’s not to only one who’s going to truly miss his best friend.

When they reach the outskirts of the town, one cry raises above all the other voices. Somebody calls Gavin’s name and when Michael stops to see who it is, a little girl breaks from the crowd; she races towards them and throws her arms around Gavin’s waist. Her embrace almost knocks Gavin over, but Michael balances him.

“Is that you, Millie?” Gavin asks, bending forward slightly. Millie nods and Michael sees the tears running down her cheeks, wetting Gavin’s shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Millie cries, hugging him tightly. Gavin finds her shoulders and returns the embrace.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he says, smiling softly. “You don’t have to cry.”

The tears keep coming, and when Millie pulls back, she lifts up a string of wood and pearls similar to Gavin. “I made another necklace,” she says, “it’s like yours!”

“So we match now,” Gavin grins, and even though he can’t see what Millie’s necklace looks like, he draws out his own. “It’ll be impossible to forget each other, right?”

Millie nods vigorously and embraces Gavin even tighter. “Good bye, Gavin,” she says into his shirt. “I’ll miss you – we’ll all miss you!”

When Millie finally releases him she wipes her cheek with one hand and waves to Michael. Michael waves back, and he catches Geoff and Griffon standing nearby as their daughter returns to them. He waves to them, too.

“Ready to go?” He asks Gavin, turning away from the town and the crowd. Gavin nods, toying with his necklace again, and Michael thinks he might actually be crying under the blindfold. He can’t tell, though, and Gavin is smiling nonetheless.

“Yeah. Let’s get going.”

\--

The staircase starts off no wider than the narrows trail, but it’s come to the point now where each step is wider than the last. They twist and turn as they ascend, carved right into the mountain side an eventually so wide that it looks as though someone tunneled through the stone and then chopped off one side, leaving it open to the terrifying heights below.

Michael keeps well away from the open edge, staying close to where he knows the stones won’t crumble from beneath his feet. Gavin is still on his back, and he hasn’t said more than ten words since they left the first stair.

This is what they have been climbing to for almost two weeks, and until last night, Gavin had seemed to hold up surprisingly strong. But they had been moving at a snail’s pace all that time, climbing slowly and carefully. The temple was so far away, then; it almost felt like they had all the time in the world to reach it when they didn’t. Now, the stairs could turn again at any moment and Michael would see the temple right in front of them. They are out of time.

Gavin tries to adjust his arms around Michael’s neck every few moments, and Michael can almost feel the trepidation in each of his movements.

“Just remember what I said yesterday,” Michael told him this morning. Gavin had nodded, but didn’t say anything in return.

Because of how the stairs have been built, Michael hasn’t been able to keep track of the pillars. All he knows is that they are somewhere above him and he’s getting closer to them. That, however, does nothing to ease his nerves or Gavin’s fear.

And then the stairs curve again, the wall falls away, leaving them on an open path… and the pillars are right in front of them, so suddenly that Michael stops again. They line the stairs, all of them made of white stone and at least three times Michael’s height. They’re hard to look at in the morning light, but they seem completely untouched by human hands, time, and even weather.

It’s strange, but Michael doesn’t have the chance to linger for long on it – the pillars line the stairs right up to a set of doors, and Michael doesn’t need to think twice about where he recognizes them. They are identical to the doors of the temple inside the town, and he’s willing to bet that it’s right down to every tiny detail, too.

“We’re there, aren’t we?” Gavin asks. He still sounds quiet even though he’s speaking right next to Michael’s ear.

“Yeah,” Michael nods and he feels Gavin’s grip loosening as he shifts. Without needing to be told, he lets go of Gavin’s legs so that he can stand on his own. Gavin takes his arm again, and Michael guides him again, telling him where each step up is until they reach the doors. “The oracle said I’m supposed to leave you here.”

Gavin doesn’t let go of his arm. “Why?”

“She said it wasn’t my journey.”

A few seconds pass, and then Gavin says, “That’s bollocks.” He grips Michael’s arm tightly. “Come in with me.”

“You sure?” Michael asks, and Gavin tilts his head in his direction.

“It’s not like she can see us all the way up here,” he says. Michael can’t place the tone of his voice – it’s almost like when he was thinking about removing the blindfold prematurely, but now there is no questioning whether or not he’s going to break from tradition. “Unless you don’t want to come in with me.”

Michael could punch him – right in his big nose – for suggesting that. There’s no way he’s leaving Gavin alone here, not now. “I’ve had it up to here with shitty traditions,” he says. “Fuck that.”

For the first time today, Gavin smiles.

The door creaks as Michael pushes it open slowly, its rusty hinges protesting loudly with every shove. It’s pitch dark inside except for the streak of light from outside revealing the stone floor and what looks to be a shallow pool of water.

“I can’t see very much,” Michael says as he looks around, his voice echoing around. The sunlight is bright, but it does little to light the inside of the chamber. It’s large and round, filled with shadows. Columns line the walls, supporting a ceiling that he can’t see in the darkness. The stone floor is grey and cracked, and the only things that might serve as decoration are a pool of water and yet another altar. Unlit braziers stand in front of each column; they look a little burned, but no fires have been lit in them for fifty years. As far as Michael can tell, the entire structure is very simple, dusty and eroded by time, as well. This seems a little strange to Michael – everything else so far has looked impeccable despite the fact it was built on a mountain.

In here, it’s… lonely.

He leads Gavin inside carefully, making sure he stays away from the pool if water. Behind it is the altar, and they only have one type of incense left, so Michael doesn’t need to worry about Gavin mixing it up. Arranged on the altar are small bowls just like the ones they have, except these ones are discolored and cracked. At a closer look, Michael can see the remains of candles as well.

“We need the rest of the candles to light the altar,” Gavin tells him as they approach the altar, sounding worried. “But we don’t need that much more light in here, do we?”

“There’re torches around the place,” Michael replies. “Don’t worry about that. After a couple weeks with a blindfold, I thought you’d be used to the dark.”

“That’s a different type of darkness,” Gavin says as he drops their supplies on the floor behind him.

“Not really,” Michael bends to find the flint and steel to give some light to the room. Their conversation is stilted and slow – it almost feels wrong. There is no denying that this is the last time they see each other (this _might_ be, a voice in Michael’s mind insists), and they’re talking about being afraid of the dark. Michael could try to find some poetic way of relating that to their current situation, but by the time he stands again, Gavin has lifted the blindfold over the top of his head and he’s blinking madly.

As Michael lights up the braziers, he watches Gavin turn in circles, squinting at the light and rubbing his eyes. There’s an almost comical strip of pale skin surrounding his eyes; the rest of his face had tanned on their climb, but his eyes were left untouched. He approaches the door, and even though the only thing to be seen outside is the path lined by the white pillars, he doesn’t take a single step outside again. When the temple is well lit, Gavin turns away from the door and stares across to the altar.

“Michael,” he starts; his brow crinkles and Michael can hear confusion seeping in. “Do you notice anything… odd?”

Michael frowns and takes another look around. They’ve kicked up dust and left footprints on the floor and the only thing interrupting the smooth stone of the floor, walls, columns and altar are cracks.  On the altar are the bowls and candle wax left behind by previous sacrifices. The only thing out of place that he can see is the amount of algae that’s grown in the water. There is literally nothing else…

That’s it. There is _nothing_ else. Michael quickly checks the altar, walks around it, but sees nothing on the floor behind it. Then he kneels next to the pool, and sees nothing but the algae growing in the cracks between the stones.

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t there be a body in here?” Gavin asks; he standing frozen near the door still, looking more and more uncertain by the second.

There shouldn’t be just one body, Michael thinks. There should be a lot more than one, but there isn’t a single trace of one, not even a single bone.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“They must have left,” Gavin says. It’s the most plausible explanation as far as Michael can tell – bodies don’t decay to nothing after only fifty years after all. Michael imagines them staying inside for as long as they could take it, and then doing the same thing they did – breaking with tradition and leaving. Could none of them make it back to town, though? “Maybe they found a way out,” Gavin continues, almost like he’s reading Michael’s mind. “Maybe that’s why they didn’t come back to the town. They might have found a way off the island… Unless they really did, you know…”

Michael stares up at the ceiling. It looks no different than the floor, there’s nothing to suggest its some portal to the gods. “I don’t know, man… Something just… I don’t like this.”

“You didn’t like it from the start,” Gavin reminds him. He leaves his position next to the door and stops a few feet away from Michael. “What’s supposed to happen in here?”

“I’m not even supposed to _be_ here, Gavin. How should I know?”

“I’m willing to take anything at this point,” Gavin mutters a few seconds later. His eyes wander to the pack he left on the floor and Michael can finally see the uncertainty in them. “It doesn’t matter what they did after, but it’s obvious they did what they were supposed to do when they got here.”

Dead silence settles between them. Michael knows that he’s going to have to leave soon, but his feet remain still, heavy as stones. I could stay, let Gavin do whatever the hell he’s supposed to do, he thinks. Then we could wait a while and if nothing happens, we could leave…

But Gavin isn’t supposed to return to town, that much is already clear. You prepared yourself for this, he reprimands himself; you already knew that he will have to stay and you will have to go. It’s not just for tradition.

“You’ve been a good friend, you know that?” He says as the wind whistles outside and blows the dust inside into the pool. “Because I know I’ve told you otherwise.”

A small smile tugs at Gavin lips. “Even with all the shit I’ve screwed up?”

“ _Especially_ with all the shit you’ve fucked up. I don’t know how many other people have questioned this – hell, maybe they all did, but they didn’t have the guts to do anything about it for the sake of the town – but you didn’t just pass on some stupid idea to me, Gavin. Even if I never do anything about it – and I swear, I will, even if nothing changes… I don’t think I’m ever going to forget that.”

Gavin’s eyes widen a little and he starts teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet. He looks so hopeful that Michael needs to look away from him before he continues.

“I know this isn’t exactly how you saw the rest of your life, and I’m sorry that I can’t – I can’t do anything to change it-”

“What if I’m right?” Gavin asks suddenly, cutting him off. “What if I’m right about all of this, and there actually is something out there?”

“Then…” Michael turns to face him again as he pushes away the doubts in his mind. _Isn’t it better to think that you’re right instead of wrong?_ “Then I’m going to build a boat. I’m going to sail away, and I’m going to find it. And if you’re there – wherever you end up, you just stay there, and I’m going to come and find you.”

“And…” Gavin hesitates, but only just. “And if I’m wrong?”

“Then I’ll build a boat anyway,” Michael answers immediately. “Because one way or another, I’m getting off this island. If there’s something out there, I’m going to find it… And if you’re not there, then I’ll tell everyone I meet about the best friend I ever had.”

Gavin is silent for a moment, lost for words, or maybe he because he has nothing left to say. A shaky smile appears on his face and he nods once, then again as if to reassure himself. “Thanks, Mic-”

The rest is muffled as Michael steps forward and wraps his arms around Gavin’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace. Gavin returns it, gripping the back of Michael’s shirt tightly as Michael pats his shoulder firmly.

“Good luck, man,” Michael chokes out as Gavin buries his face in his collar. Neither of them wants to let the other go, and Michael almost wished he hadn’t come with Gavin just so that he didn’t have to be the one to leave him behind. It would have been so much easier to have said his good bye before Gavin left, then gone to see the statue of him every once and a while in the temple. But that sounds wrong, even in his mind.

“Thanks,” Gavin murmurs when they finally pull away. His eyes look glassy, but Michael knows that he’ll hold it back until he’s alone. Michael sets his jaw and nods once, fighting the reluctance in his bones as he steps away. “Bye… Good bye…”

“Good bye, Gav,” Michael says as he reaches the other side of the pool. “Whatever happens…? I’ll be seeing you.”

He turns and walks towards the open door. Before he steps outside, he looks over his shoulder and sees Gavin smiling at him. _Good bye, Michael; I’ll be seeing you_. And, before he can change his mind, Michael leaves the chamber behind him, pulling the doors shut behind him.

\--

 _We build statues because they_ don’t come back.

 _What if there’s something out there?_ _Somewhere on the other side of the mist..._

_No matter how many times I’ve called you dumb shit, or tried to punch you in the nose, or made fun of your nose… you’re still my best friend._

_We’re almost there. Michael, I’m going to die!_

_I don’t know what the hell tomorrow’s going to bring you, Gavin, but it’s not going to be some shitty, obscure death._

_What if I’m right about all of this, and there actually is something out there?_

_I’m going to come and find you._

_And if I’m wrong?_

_Then I’ll tell everyone I meet about the best friend I ever had._

**Author's Note:**

> I put "there may or may not be implied character death" in the tags, because whether or not somebody actually dies is really up to how you interpret the ending.
> 
> Edit: I've gotten mixed reactions for this. One one hand, it's perfectly fine the way it is, but on the other, really, what happened to Gavin? What's up with this island, man? So I've tried to make a few people happy, and if you really, REALLY want to know what happens next, mirror's Edge is there for you.


End file.
